


Things that traverse the Ether

by fishnstix



Series: That one with the Ether [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Gen, Kinda, Magic, Snippet of a larger AU, Time Shenanigans, but not really, just emphasis on time shenanigans, major character death but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishnstix/pseuds/fishnstix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey there!” Greets the blue figment of your imagination cheerfully, a bright smile breaking across his face, “I didn't mean to interrupt! I'm just passing through but I'm not really sure where I am. I've never used the Ether for point travel so my aim might be a bit off, do you think you could help me?”</p>
<p>Yeah, you've lost it. You're in some Foundation lab being experimented on.</p>
<p>“Oh Gods, I'm sorry!” He knocks himself lightly on the head skewing his dorky glasses a little, “I didn't mean to make assumptions, I know some Title's can't really communicate verbally what with the risk of blowing someones head up or who knows what else! How about I just list the places I can think of and you could just nod when I get close?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things that traverse the Ether

You’ve taken this route before; you know where the tiles on this roof are loose, where the fence for that balcony is stable, where the unlocked door will lead straight to the roof and where a pipe on the other side will take you right back down to the ground again. You keep this in mind as you skitter along the uneven slant and prepare to throw yourself over the edge and grab hold of the necessary railing.

It's clear you've misjudged your speed, misjudged your footfall and caught an uneven foothold that won’t allow you to propel yourself nearly far enough when a hand shoots out swinging you safety onto the balcony below. Your momentum is halted as you collide with the glass door and you watch as its surface reflects the falling body that could have been you. You'd feel bad for the newest dead Dave but you aren't sure if he's just a copy spawned by the Ether or he is in fact you.

You take a moment to just breathe, let the adrenalin coursing through your veins fade a little and out of morbid curiosity take a look over the edge. The bright red spreading on the pavement draws your attention more than the broken body that looks just like you, you wonder if one day you'll end up like that. Nothing but a red smear on some sidewalk.

The gathering crowd around your corpse reminds you that this isn't the scenic route and you are in fact still meant to be running. You're quick to jimmy the lock on what you're relieved to find is an unoccupied hotel room and after emptying the contents of the mini bar into your pockets you casually stroll out into the hallway. There's a single maid's trolley, minus the maid, waiting for you and you help yourself to a couple tissue boxes (that go down the front of your hoodie) and soap (that joins the small bottles of alcohol in your pockets). From there you duck into the stairwell and make your descent.

There's the unmistakable crackle of a walkies-talkie just as your coming up to the last double back of stairs. You're quick to jump the bannister landing behind the security guard just as he notices you and makes an exclamation of surprise but he's too slow and you're out into the open lobby just in time to see the arrival of Skaian Foundation grunts, no doubt alerted by an EMT that recognized the corpse outside as one of yourself.

Too bad for them they're always a step behind, too slow and too unoriginal to keep up with you. You're out a side door and on the street just as they catch sight of you. Never ones to cause a scene they haven't even cordoned off the area and you're free to run past startled pedestrians with men in black combat gear armed with what you hope are stun guns and not real guns hot on your tail.

With practiced ease you lose them in the backstreets, narrow alley ways and rooftops they dare not follow you off of. They wont stop searching for you for a while though so you hole up in a back alley boarded on 3 sides with the third side entering into a rundown little cafe. For some blessed reason it goes unnoticed and you've never been found in it yet. Only once have you encountered someone else in the area, she had smiled at you lightly then waited as you shuffled away from the door and made her way back into the cafe. Except it hadn't been the cafe when you caught sight of what was beyond the door, it had been a comfortable looking apartment with pillows and piles of cloth. After she'd closed the door behind her, you'd opened it again only to find the same old coffee shop.

Resigning yourself to at least another couple of hours in this alley you sink to the ground, ignoring the fact you'll undoubtedly end up more thoroughly covered in the streets grime, and pull out the spoils of your most common escapade. The tissue boxes are a little crushed and you think you're probably missing a bar of soap but overall nothing is in need of joining the garbage, even the little bottles of booze survived the trip.

Shaking your head you twist the lid off the first little bottle and down its contents, ignoring the way it burns the back of your throat and the voice in the back of your head that sounds like Bro chiding you for being so careless. You know it's stupid to be knocking back pure spirits on an empty stomach and minimal sleep but that's part of the point, you're hoping maybe it'll knock you out or at the very least numb some of the creeping loneliness.

Three mini bottles of tequila and you're feeling mildly dizzy and unsettled, you've began debating internally the merits of visiting Bro versus the damage that could cause. You aren't completely drunk but you're doubtful you could jump off a building now and land right, meaning a trail of dead Dave's, more specifically a trail of dead Dave’s leading to your Bro and he really doesn't need that. He warned you after all, told you to keep your head low but you didn't listen.

Five drinks in and you're miserably contemplating the wall across from you. All the posters for upcoming events and the overlapping graffiti, you smirk to yourself wondering who thought anyone would possibly see their posters in this weird little space and then you full out laugh when the posters become obscured by a gathering cloud of Ether because of course you can't escape it.

You watch as the cloud shimmers like light off a puddle, it's expanding like no one's business but you haven't got the energy to move, your head is a little swimming at the moment you've decided you'll just sleep in the alley way but then the cloud swells and starts to turn blue before spitting out a teenage boy that looks the same age as you but is wearing ridiculous blue pajamas with a long ass wind sock for a hood.

With barely a twitch of your eyebrow you knock back the sixth and final bottle of something, aware that alcohol was a bad idea on an empty stomach and wondering if hunger has caused you to start hallucinating.

“Hey there!” Greets the blue figment of your imagination cheerfully, a bright smile breaking across his face, “I didn't mean to interrupt! I'm just passing through but I'm not really sure where I am. I've never used the Ether for point travel so my aim might be a bit off, do you think you could help me?”

Yeah, you've lost it. You're in some Foundation lab being experimented on.

“Oh Gods, I'm sorry!” He knocks himself lightly on the head skewing his dorky glasses a little, “I didn't mean to make assumptions, I know some Title's can't really communicate verbally what with the risk of blowing someones head up or who knows what else! How about I just list the places I can think of and you could just nod when I get close?”

Maybe, just maybe you haven't lost it and this guy is the insane one. What is he talking about, Titles? Maybe he means Infected? Or maybe you're drunker than you feel, you nod at him slowly.

He laughs, probably at you, then starts to pace back and forth as he taps his cheek. Or he would be pacing if his feet were actually connecting with the floor but he is in fact just floating back and forth, something that has your usually still face breaking into a scowl.

“LOWAS?”

His voice cuts through your contemplation of the benefits of flying versus the benefits of dead Dave's. You raise an eyebrow waiting for him to go on. He starts listing locations causing you to start scowling again when you don't recognize any of the designations. Where the hell is he from? You’ve never heard of any of these places.

“LOTAM? LOWAA? LODAG?”

You slowly shake your head, face turning back to careful neutrality while your new companions face starts to look like a gathering thundercloud before finally he bursts out:

“You don't have to help!” Then for what must be dramatic effect he throws his hands in the air, “I’ve listed all the capitals! One of them has to be right!”

He points at you accusingly and you can feel the air break lightly across your chest in what you assume is some sort of intimidation tactic. No guardian angel Dave’s show up to give you a hand so you figure the dude isn’t about to try to kill you.

“Look bro,” you interrupt ignoring the look of annoyance that passes over his face at the fact you can talk with no ill consequences, “I think you’re a little far from home. We’ve had capitals named in numerals for the last 10 years.” 

His face turns from a scowl to something akin to fear. It could almost be pure terror, you'd know, you've seen the look on your own face plenty of times in reflective surfaces.

He plants his feet on the ground for the first time since he floated out of the ether, his long ass hood curling around his shoulders as he turns a little green.

“You ok dude?”

His lip trembles as he scans the alley and presses his back up against the opposite wall, you don’t have the heart to tell him that his cute little blue PJ ensemble is probably going to be all sorts of messed up from the grime on the wall.

“This is Prose huh?” He chews his lip and you're reminded of the story your mom use to read you about the bunny that got lost, “I didn't think. You know, I didn't think I'd gathered enough to come through on the other side, I just. Dad is going to be so mad!”

You expect him to start bawling any second the way his blue eyes go glassy, but instead he laughs a little cracked and all sorts of insincere. He isn't really making sense either, you wonder if this is shock or if he's about to have a fit. The wind has started to scrap against your skin in a decidedly unnatural way and the garbage that had once littered the whole ground has been blown up against the walls.

Slowly (and a little shakily) you get to your feet, “yeah. This is Prose, I guess that means you aren't from around here and I don't know how the hell that is even a thing but hey, with Ether I guess anything is possible. For all I know you were a cockroach.”

He giggles a little nervously but the wind dies down as he takes a deep breath.

“I guess I should have worked that out, I don’t think there are any alley’s in Dersit that are this dirty,” he adjusts his glasses and smiles once again, “too many Breath Aspects. Say, why don’t you guy’s ask them to help you keep the city clean?”

“Sorry dude,” you shake your head in exaggerated dismay before continuing, “no one wants Infected breathing on their shit let alone their rubbish. So does that make you a glorified street sweeper in this Dersit place?”

He huffs and simply floats after you, “no, I’m an Heir. I can predict Ether and move it where it's needed. It’d be a waste of talent to have me cleaning.”

You resist the urge to laugh at the odd declaration as you climb over the pointless wooden barrier that helped make up the little hidey hole. Little boy blue floats himself over and you have to pull him to the ground before anyone can look into the alley and see him.

“No infected shit man,” you snap before relaxing from your tense posture, “we’re out in the open! Walk, your feet do still work right? Good, now don’t do any of that windy stuff while we’re out in the crowds.” 

You think he might be pouting but you're not going to look back to check. Instead you dodge through the crowds of workers done for the day with the intention of getting indoors before curfew. Not to mention the alcohol is still working through your system and the tissue boxes stuffed down your jacket are stabbing uncomfortably into your ribs. You've also noticed your wind sock companion is not terribly use to walking if his constant tripping is anything to go by and you have to give in and just grab his arm and practically drag him down the street.

As the crowds thin you release him. This far from the heart of the City the Ether tends to gather more regularly and thickly, anyone with common sense and enough money hightails it out as soon as they can. Makes it a great place for Infected to hang out, not to mention making it generally more dangerous for the same reason.

“Hey, so, where are we going?”

Finally, you think as you turn around to consider him through your shades. His looking around a little anxiously and while you could just leave him to fend for himself you're not that heartless. Not to mention no dead Dave's have shown up so he can't be all that dangerous.

“My hide out,” you supply shrugging and turning to continue the journey, “can't be out after curfew or the Foundation will show up.”

“A hide out?” He sounds much too excited for your liking as he rushes to fall in step beside you, all anxiety forgotten as he demands, “does that make you some sort of spy?” 

You resist the urge to have a meeting between your palm and face, and wonder what the hell goes on in this Dersit for him to jump to such a ridiculous conclusion, “no, according to the Foundation I'm a danger to society, one they'd like either locked up or with a bullet in my brain.”

He shifts from surprise to confusion before settling on a murderous scowl that he turns on you, almost as if he is about to accuse you of something you're not entirely sure is justified. 

You cut him off before he can give voice to whatever he was about to say, “you're infected too. The Foundation wants you just as dead or just as captured. Keep up would you! These little magical things we can do aren’t normal and no one wants scum like us walking the streets. It’s either be a target on the run or end up dead or in a quartz cell which might as well be the same thing. I don’t know how things work in Dersit but here being able to float off the ground is not a good thing.”

That’s better; his face returns to a nice neutral frown and you resume your steady pace towards the bare bones apartment you’re squatting in this month with the mystery kid in tow.

You’re heading up the stairs towards the top floor where your hovel is and you know the shit is floating just out of view, you’re tempted to demonstrate your speed and give him a smack up the back of the head for being so obvious but you don't want to show all your cards at once given that he may still be a threat.

“So what’s your name?” He finally asks .

“Dave,” he skips up beside you as you stop in front of a heavily masking taped door and you follow up with the question you know he’s waiting for, “what about you?”

“John Egbert,” he thrusts out a hand that you make sure to grip with both of yours as you shake it, smirking slightly at the grimace he makes when he gets his hand back covered in dirt, “what’s your last name?”

“Strider.”

He trips on his way into the dingy little apartment. You’re pretty sure it was on his own feet so you don’t even try to help him avoid gravity's embrace Of course the windy thing he has going on saves him from that fate and he simply floats back upright.

You close the door and barricade it with the conveniently heavy set of drawers that were waiting in the room when you found it and start removing the contents of your jacket and pockets before pulling the hoodie off and smoothing down the ratty t-shirt you still haven't bothered to attempt cleaning. The fatigue of the day catches up with you, along with the hunger ad you wonder if you should stop running the streets trying to distract yourself from the growing desire to get in touch with Bro. It's not safe, you remind yourself collapsing onto the thin mattress. 

“Are you sure you aren’t a fugitive,” John floats down onto the end of the mattress and untangles his hood from his shoulders, “I mean, not the infected kind? But the real, you’ve killed someone kind?”

Despite yourself you let slip a smirk, “nah man, only myself. Maybe a few Foundation grunts but that wasn’t my fault, they came at me.”

“Only yourself?” he pauses and asks hopefully, “so you’re heart too? I mean that’s kind of expected, he had other versions of himself too but I don’t think he ever killed them.”

You can’t help the small chuckle that escapes you in your tired state, you shake your head and wait for him to take another stab at it.

“Time then,” you nod and he winces like he was really hoping he was wrong, “I see.”

“Dude, just say it, you’re acting like I’m about to end you, and as amusing as it is I'm too tired to deal.”

“David Strider,” he clears his throat and fiddles with the end of his ridiculous hood before reciting, “2nd in command of the Beatmesa and a Prince of Time. Fugitive for the murder of an alternate time line Jake English and Dirk Strider but I guess you’re not the same person otherwise you’d have recognized me right? And he is older than you but the Time Aspect can be weird so it’s hard to tell.”

He giggles nervously and you just stare at him from behind your shades. Is he talking about a future you or one of your copies that didn’t die? Your hair stands on end at the thought of an alternative you running around killing people you’ve never heard of, except that he said one of them was a Strider, could he be talking about your brother? Should you head right over to warn him now, but it was an alternative time line right so this one is fine? Your head hurts with all these possibilities and you think John must realize you're freaking because he reassures you.

“It’s not you man, don’t worry. I don’t think he did it on purpose in the first place but the guy is super scary and I wouldn’t want to have accidentally stumbled across him and uh,” he looks around nervously and starts chewing on his lip, “can I stay here until I can find a way back to Dersit, please?”

The sudden change of subject gives you whiplash and you just nod, too tired to deal with time shenanigans and guys in blue hoods. You wonder briefly why you? Then decide that if alternate time lines are a thing in one of them it wasn't.

You're new roommate flops back on the end of the mattress; half on, half off and you figure you’ve slept in more uncomfortable positions than diagonally across the mattress so you’re not going to make him move. You’re asleep before you can scrunch up your hoodie and use it as a pillow.

*** * ***

There’s one bad thing about semi-abandoned apartment complexes, no curtains and no electricity. The electricity thing has never been much of a concern because holy shit do you not need something else to draw attention to your location, but the lack of curtains really puts a damper on your mood when the suns glare is always the first thing you wake up to. 

Your shades have become askew and you think that’s a foot in your face. You wonder if maybe a dead Dave dropped in last night and just figured you weren’t in need of saving and killed themselves on the spot. This foot is clad in yellow sneakers though and despite a small layer of grit on the bottom look brand new. You groan internally as you remember the bright blue eyed boy from the previous day and wonder if the alcohol is to blame for the dialogue you two shared.

Adjusting your shades you get up and stretch, your clothes are starting to stick to your skin so you take that as a sign to shower and change into the only other pair of clothes you have that are only half as dirty as your current ensemble. The water is cold but you’re not going to complain, the one good thing about semi-abandoned apartment complexes is the still running water after all. 

You’re halfway to being a snowman with the amount of soap you’ve lathered yourself in when you hear a loud bump from the only other room and figure the kid – wait John – is finally awake. You rinse off real quick and throw on your extra set of clothes, black skinny jeans and your red and white record shirt, your red sneakers return to your feet and you realize you’re going to need more masking tape if you want them to last much longer.

There’s an extra body on the floor and you can’t say you’re too happy about it. John is definitely not happy about it eying the corpse dubiously from the corner of the ceiling. For a second you wonder how John will feel if you start removing your dead you’s shoes because damn are his shoes looking mighty brand new and then you realize you don’t care and start unlacing those bad boys as fast as you can go and tugging them off. The hoodie is a no go, you’d think about how lovely it’d be to have a new one but you’ve already got one dead Dave to deal with and you don't fancy accidentally spawning another because of a good wardrobe choice on his part.

“What are you doing?” Asks John returning to floating inches from the floor.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth Egbert, I needed new shoes. Chances are I would have died because these shoes are a piece of shit or I could have gotten caught trying to steal some masking tape to fix them. So here this Dave is saving me the trouble,” you look at him and for a second wonder why he looks brighter than usual, “one second.”

You’re back in the bathroom scrambling to place your aviators back on your face. It’s not like you typically have company and although the Ether does some weird shit to people’s faces your face has not had any weird shit done to it and you'll be damned if you let people go around thinking it has.

“Hey, what are we going to do with uh,” John appears in the doorway and waves a finger in the air like he is trying to remember what he was about to say, “the body?”

“Acid bath, cut it up into bite size pieces and feed it to the pigs? I dunno, what do you want to do with it? We could always eat it ourselves,” at this point he is stifling giggles and you can't help but smirk just a little at the stupid sight of it.

“Those are great ideas but I don't see any acid or pigs around do you? And I don't fancy eating any part of you, who knows what you've been rolling in.”

You nod thoughtfully and rub your temple as you contemplate your options, there are none. You aren’t going to drag the body around until you find somewhere far enough away that you can safely dump it and if you get sloppy and dump it any which place you’ll draw attention to your hide out and end up cornered or having to leave.

“Leave it man, no point in trying to hide it,” with a sigh you run your hand through your hair and cringe at the stiffness, soap is not a good substitute for shampoo, “you’re meant to be getting out of here anyway yeah? I’ve got another place I can crash after we get that sorted.”

“I could float it somewhere?” 

You shrug in response, “Nah man, no infected shit among the masses. I thought we went over this yesterday? And keep your feet on the floor fly boy, I’m not getting outed because you can’t stop showing off.”

With a flashstep you’re over the body and picking up your stained hoodie and slipping it on before returning to John’s side just as quickly, he doesn’t even blink or act surprised and you’re only a little disconcerted about that. You slip the desk drawers out of the way a lot easier with John’s windy help and he follows you down the stairs with his feet firmly making contact.

“So how do we get you home?”

John bounds down a few steps to catch up with you and whirls a finger in the air, you can see the shimmer of Ether dancing on his skin, “I just need to find a large enough cloud or combine a few smaller ones and step through it and BOOM, I should be back home.”

“Can anyone do that? Walk through the Ether and come out somewhere else I mean?” You’re cautiously optimistic; you could use another place to hide.

“No,” he chews his lip before perking up a little, “but sometimes it happens accidentally! And you can learn to control it, and some can even do it intentionally and well, I did it yesterday and it didn’t seem that hard!”

You roll your eyes behind your shades and lead him out towards the winding alley ways where the Ether tends to collect in abundance and John’s smile turns blinding as he starts sweeping his arms and pulling clouds together into large bundles and skipping through them like he isn’t expecting to be returned home in that instant. 

You’re absently watching this display when a small patter of liquid on your hand draws your eyes up. You’re met with the dead eyes of another you, shades missing and hand hanging from the fire escape like he had been trying to reach you in time and you’ve got a second to realize you’ve fucked up pretty bad when another Dave arrives behind you just in time to catch a few bullets to the chest.

You flashstep to John but he’s already a step ahead of you as he gathers the wind around you both and launches you to the roof where you get your bearings pretty damn fast even for you and you’re running for the quickest route to the other side of town.

John follows his feet hitting the floor as little as possible; he makes a good show of making it look like he just weighs so little that throwing himself off buildings and getting so far is nothing out of the ordinary. You don’t tell him why you’re running, he heard the gunshots and saw the bodies, but you know he doesn’t realize you’re being followed now, that they’re attempting to preempt your movements and get a step ahead.

“Dave,” John sounds breathless as he grabs your hand to bring you to a dead stop and you notice in the same moment the blood, “how many would it take, oh Gods.”

The roof is sticky with blood, the black of the tar only visible in small patches while the rest is covered in varying shades of red. How didn't you realize sooner, the trail of dead bodies, you hadn't even thought the number excessive but for this much blood to be in one spot. How many tried to warn you, to spare you whatever fate is waiting for you on this rooftop and what even happened to the dead Dave bodies? Did they just explode into a spray of blood, is that why there's so much of it? The morbid thought makes your stomach turn and breath catch and John is still looking around wide eyed.

A loud crack like a whip causes you to instinctively flashstep from your original spot just in time to only get scraped by whatever that bright light was but the pained shriek behind you reminds you you’ve been traveling with John and you can see the red already rushing past his hands, can see the way the shot went clean through and has left nothing but a ragged hole. He crumples to the ground before your brain kicks in and says: “yeah, he's dead”. You’ve seen dead Dave’s but this is different, this isn't another you and this isn’t fair. You’re the one that’s meant to die all the time, not some poor kid so far from home.

The next shot clips the side of your thigh despite your attempts to avoid it and you stumble forward unable to make out the words being shouted behind you. There are sounds of a scuffle and then a pained hiss that isn’t your own but sounds familiar. You can’t take your eyes off John's fallen form and you have to will your legs to support your weight so you can move enough to drop down beside him. You’re getting blood everywhere, yours and his, but it hardly matters. John's eyes are blank and his mouth open in pain, you wish for a second that you could rewind time, that you were the odd Dave out because then you could go back and fix this.

Another crack of power behind you reminds you that something is still going on, you look back and wonder if maybe you are dead because an angel dual wielding pistols is currently locked in battle with a red eyed demon with a katana who is pouncing off what looks like bubbles of Ether. The katana meets with a glowing white shield as he moves to strike causing the demon to bounce back only for him to launch himself forward again attempting to strike his mark. The bubbles of Ether have started to glob together in ever increasing sizes and the angel is watching them wearily like something is about to happen, which is when something does.

You can feel the change in the air as time stops . The angel is frozen in mid-flight with his wings of light outstretched and guns taking aim at the demon who is still in motion, the katana’s point sinks into flesh but no blood blooms from the wound and you watch as the demon then turns to you leaving his weapon lodged in the body of his enemy. You try shuffling back as he drops down in front of you and smirks in such a familiar way.

He reminds you of bro if he didn’t wear a hat or use so much product in his hair and this guy emotes in such a way that your stomach twists again and your head swims. For a brief moment you think he might be about to kill you or liquify John's body the way the blood surrounding you suggests. Instead he reaches into an inner pocket and pulls out a pair aviators. That's when you must decide consciousness is for chumps because one minute you're surrounded by blood and the next you're watching Ether ripple on a brick wall covered in posters that no one is going to see.

You look around at the familiar alley and feel a chill sweep down your spine as you reach a hand into your pocket and pull out an unopened mini bottle of booze. The alley remains quiet and unchanged, you watch the Ether cloud grow and peter out into nothing before making your way back to the dingy apartment you've claimed, mysterious John and dead Dave free.

**Author's Note:**

> Finally decided to just leave this here, sorry my characterisation is so terrible I'll readily concede that working with other people's characters is not something I'm very good at. Still, I hope you enjoyed the story.
> 
> Not beta'ed btw, if you see glaring mistakes or even just minor ones feel free to point them out and I'll fix them.


End file.
